Beneath a Frigid Surface
by Kylisa
Summary: Iceman has been stuck in his ice-form for quite awhile, and he really wants out of it. What if Sage played around with his secondary mutation? It hasn't been done before, has it...


A/N: None of the characters are mine.  
  
C1: Breaking the Ice  
  
The air crackled with a silent, icy ferocity that belied its seemingly calm state, even as a lone X-man skipped rocks across the lake, shoulders stiff with half-suppressed frustration. The silence was broken at random intervals by tinny splashing noises that barely lasted half a second, as stones flew through the air and beneath the waters. Around him, for nearly ten metres in all directions away from the lake, a light dusting of frost blanketed the ground, rocks, and grass. Funny thing, too. It was mid-May, a warm, warm cloudless day which promised a strong dose of sunshine - yet the air which hung above the frost was chilling, and definitely NOT warm. The slight irregularity in the landscape around him did little to catch his attention. After all, he was the cause of the cold. They didn't call him the Iceman for no reason.  
  
He tossed another rock, one which skipped once pathetically before drowning. He shook his head. Rock skipping, he decided, was definitely not his forte. But he was feeling angtsy, and he needed the distraction. Or at least, the minor tension-relieve it was SUPPOSED to be providing him - although this was causing him even more stress, what with his rocks barely skipping as they were supposed to. He was lousy at this. Just like he felt now. And yesterday. And the day before.  
  
"I don't need telepathy to tell that you're pretty darn bitter about something."  
  
Iceman snarled, flinging yet another rock across the lake. It skimmed the surface once before slipping beneath the pristine waters of the lake, leaving rapidly expanding ripples in two neat spots before calming down. Something he absolutely couldn't do. He sighed. "You think?"  
  
She came up beside him, gracefully taking up residence atop an outcropping rock. Like its brethren beside it, the rock was lightly coated with ice. "But of course, Bobby. You're pretty upset about your mutation, am I right?"  
  
"That's probably the understatement of the century, Sage." He clenched his fists together, staring at the network of bluish veins that ran in webs down his hands beneath the ice. God, his voice was cold and bitter, even though he hadn't meant it like that. Slightly ashamed, he grabbed another rock, tossing it furiously across the lake. It immediately sank below the surface.  
  
"Secondary mutations aren't always that great." She said by way of answer. He was silent, instead flinging another rock out across the water. This too did not skip even once. God, he really was pathetic.  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
"Don't you wish you were...Bobby Drake again?" Her voice was almost taunting, and it was more than he could bear.  
  
"Look," He turned to face her angrily. "I don't want to hear this...." His voice trailed off as he watched her skim a rock not once, not twice, but four times across the still waters.  
  
"Showoff," He muttered under his breath.  
  
When the ripples faded, she trained her blue eyes on him, regarding him intensely.  
  
"Well?" She demanded. "Don't you?"  
  
He snorted, turning to face the lake. "It's not like YOU can do anything..." His voice trailed off, and he swung his gaze rapidly back to meet hers, the implications of what she had said sinking in.  
  
Quietly, he said, "Can - can you do something about it?"  
  
The woman known as Sage shrugged. "Perhaps. I think I have a way. But I'm not sure about the side-effects."  
  
He shook his head, barely believing his luck. "I don't care. I just want to get out of this bloody form."  
  
She nodded briefly, then without warning whipped out a device from her pocket, slapping it onto his back. The minute device whirred once, then, without warning, sank metallic talon-like claws into his back firmly. He hissed as pain exploded in his back, and the wound he had suffered in his chest detonated into excruciating agony. He heard screaming; dimly, he realized that it was he. It felt like his skin was being peeled off layer by layer, being torn off of him and flung aside carelessly. Liquid pooled at his feet - cold, freezing cold liquid. He wasn't sure - couldn't tell - if it was water or blood. Nor did he care, as the pain increased threefold, leaving him sobbing anguishly.  
  
Time no longer held meaning for him. There was only the then and now, the claws that dug deep into his back, and the pain that tore through his entire being, forcing his world down into a narrow haze and made thinking coherent thoughts a bloody great inhuman effort. He wished Death would arrive to claim him - NOW.  
  
---  
  
He must have passed out, for when he regained consciousness, the...THING had released its tenacious grip on him, and lay docilely in Sage's palm. His body still ached, and his chest wound throbbed dully.  
  
"You - " Iceman spluttered, slowly rising into a sitting position and glaring at her. "You tried to KILL me!"  
  
Sage arched an eyebrow. "You're welcome too." And stared at his torso with slightly wrinkled eyebrows, as if she saw something that was distasteful.  
  
Scowling, he absently rubbed his chest to rid himself of the tingling sensation he felt...and gasped as his hand encountered something smooth, hard, and COLD. Hastily, he snatched his hand away. Chancing a glance down at it, apprehensive as to what he'd see, he felt his jaw drop as he saw...skin. Real, warm, pale coloured flesh. His own skin. It...impossible!  
  
He forced his head up to look at Sage. "This...this can't be real."  
  
"Believe what you like," She murmured, still staring at his chest.  
  
Still marvelling at the miracle that had been wrought in him, he followed his gaze down...and groaned as he saw that on his chest was a shard of ice. It didn't hurt, nor was it cold. It was just...THERE.  
  
"Oh hell." He muttered. "It's still there?." Despair washed over him, swamping his small bubble of hope and bursting it viciously. "Thanks, but I don't think your attempt worked, Sage." To himself, he mumbled, "Damn. I guess I went through all that pain for nothing then."  
  
"Shut up," She snapped. "I never said it didn't work, did I?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"It DID work, you idiot. The ice isn't going to spread anymore than it already has. You're free from your ice-form."  
  
"I'm free?" He numbly repeated.  
  
Her words sunk barbs into his brain. Reality finally sunk in as he finally realized that...  
  
"I - free?"  
  
"I believe you've already said that. Twice." This was stated impatiently. "But -"  
  
He let out a wild yell, elation building up inside of him. No longer was he the resident Iceman, but he was once more Bobby Drake, flesh and blood.  
  
"Sage! I could kiss you!" To emphasize his point, he reached for her, but she moved out of his grasp, wrinkling her nose daintily.  
  
"That's fine, really." She struggled back a smile. Then her visage became serious. "But Bobby..."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"There were complications." She slowly said. Iceman's smile slowly faded from his face.  
  
"What kind of...complications?"  
  
She glanced fully at him from head to toe. "A few. For one, the Drake bloodline won't be continuing any further from you. Procreation is pretty much null."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"Sorry, but I did warn you of consequences."  
  
"I'm - I'm - oh, the hell with it." He cursed, ripping at the grass he sat on. He hadn't expected THAT when she said "side-effects".  
  
"And that's not the least of it, too." Sage, by this time, was pacing back and forth along the side of the waters, disturbing the otherwise tranquil liquid as she stalked in a set path. Water splashed onto him. He ignored it, even as a chill went down his spine. He shivered as the wind picked up speed, as he realized that he was half-naked. She spared him a glance as he did that, then nodded. "Also, you're no longer resistant to cold or sub-zero temperatures."  
  
"Fine." He forced out through gritted teeth. That truly sucked. Wrapping his arms around his legs, he couldn't help but marvel at the feel of his own skin. Nothing narcisstic about it - it was just pretty miraclous to be able to feel warm flesh again, for he had thought that he would forever be deprived of so simple a task in his previously permanent ice-stature. He think he knew - no, he UNDERSTOOD - how Rogue must feel now. The frustration, the anger, the resignation, and - when she finally could - the ecstatic joy. "Anything else I should know of?"  
  
"Yes." She paused in her mid-step, turning to face him. Her face was devoid of emotion. Bad sign.  
  
"What." He flatly stated.  
  
"One more." She took a seat beside him once more. He shifted slightly.  
  
"How lovely." The comment was dry.  
  
"The good news is that you still have your mutant powers. You not entirely defenseless. And the bad - "  
  
"Not entirely defenseless? What's that supposed to mean?" He cut in, shivering once more, though this time not because of the wind. Now he wasn't so sure if the tradeoff was really worth it. Firstly he was - delicately put - "no longer able to procreate". Secondly he was susceptible to the extreme temperatures, just like he used to be before he became "Iceman" waaaaay back then. And thirdly -  
  
"- you'll not be able to get your ice-form back. Ever."

---

Continue this? 


End file.
